The Wager
by Story Please
Summary: Imagine being a fly on the wall of the Hogwarts staff room. What do you think you might hear? One student hides behind a very large tapestry in order to find out...
**Author's Note: Uh, so I ended up sneaking into the staff room at Hogwarts at some point, and this is what I heard…**

* * *

 **The Wager**

"I place five knuts on Stebbins," Professor Sprout said with a somewhat uncharacteristic smirk. "He is rather popular with the girls this year, but he's still a young man's young man."

"Hah!" Professor McGonagall replied, crossing her arms and sitting back in her chair with a wicked grin, "Everyone knows that McLaggen is going to do it first, the great big brute. I place ten knuts on him."

"Oh, Minerva, Minerva, haven't you heard? It must be done right or it doesn't count," Flitwick squeaked from the top of a ladder, where he was guiding down some old charmed decorations from Valentine's day that had apparently been stuck there for several weeks judging by the sad, funeral dirge version of the wedding march that was emanating softly from them. "I put fifteen knuts on Cho Chang. After all, boys might be less choosy about when they decide to do it, but in my experience, girls tend to do what they want."

"If that is your grading policy, then no wonder so many of your male students are...failing." A black leather chair swiveled around, revealing Professor Snape in all of his greasy, batlike glory.

"You know that's not what I meant, and you know it!" Flitwick squeaked, grabbing the half-deflated singing heart-shaped balloons and hopping off the ladder. He floated gracefully down and then Vanished them both with a flick of his wrist. "Well, then, what's your bet, Severus?"

"I bet...one Galleon...on...Malfoy..." Snape steepled his fingers and gave the rest of the professors an appraising look as McGonagall groaned and Sprout huffed loudly.

"A Galleon, Severus?" McGonagall asked cheekily, "Have you even seen one before, or are you just having us on?"

Pulling a golden coin from his robes, Snape placed it on the table.

"I will sweeten the bet," he said with a slimy smile, "I will write on this parchment when, where and who. If I am wrong, you all get one of these. If I am right, you will forfeit the same."

He pulled a quill pen from his robes and was about to begin to write when the door creaked open.

"Oh? Are you betting? I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to leave me out," A spacy voice came from behind them and they all turned, staring at Trelawney as she stumbled through the door, getting her shawl caught on the doorknob. "I am a proper Divination teacher, after all."

Flitwick coughed loudly as though trying to hide his laughter, and both McGonagall and Snape were covering their mouths, trying to look stern as Sprout let out a loud snort of laughter.

"I believe you will all be wrong!" Trelawney cried suddenly, "It will not, in fact be a student!"

She stared at Snape with a weird, hopeful expression that he met with one of disgust while Minerva began to snicker loudly from behind her hand.

Meanwhile, the other professors had filed in quietly, watching the drama, some snickering, others looking pointedly confused.

"Come now," McGonagall said, finally, "Let's be serious, then. Anyone else want to place a wager before the bets are placed?"

Snape held up the folded parchment and waved it between two fingers with a very devious look on his face.

The other professors grumbled but some of them came forth and placed Galleons on the table, each coming up with their own students or seconding another professor's wager.

"Ah, what an amusing distraction!" Headmaster Dumbledore cried with delight, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, "I shall mitigate the bet and add a Galleon of my own to the betting pool!"

"Who are you betting on?" McGonagall asked suspiciously, "It's not Potter again, is it?"

"Why, Minerva, I do not know what you are talking about. My vote is with the youngest Weasley boy. After all, he has a mighty strong appetite for a great many things!"

Everyone laughed at that, and the staff meeting was called to order.

* * *

It was only later that night when, in the middle of supper at exactly eight o'clock, that Draco Malfoy let out the largest, smelliest fart that anyone had ever heard or smelled. While everyone ran from the Hall screaming in horror, only Snape remained at the Head Table, his head encased in a Bubble Head Charm, grinning maliciously.


End file.
